As the Leaf Falls
by Molivline
Summary: Jay had a hard enough time dealing with Albus Dumbledore as her uncle before she came to Hogwarts. Now how will she be able to get through her first year when mysterious attacks start to happen 17 years after the Battle of Hogwarts?
1. Prologue and Chapter 1: Party

**Prologue**

For once, the Forbidden Forest was quiet. A fox padded silently through the trees, eyes constantly roving across the path in search of something. It suddenly stopped and its ears perked up. In the blink of an eye it reared back onto its hind legs and morphed into a threatening-looking man with long black hair and a pale outline of a scar on his cheek.

"I knew you would come." A voice drifted through the bushes. Fallen leaves of many colors crackled as a goblin pushed its way into the small clearing. "Get to the point," snarled the man. "I've got to get back to Hogsmeade to take my Polyjuice Potion." "No need to get excited," said the goblin calmly. He took a long package out of his coat. The man swiped at it but the goblin quickly pulled it out of the way. "Pay up," he said. Grumbling, the man drew out a bag of galleons and gave it to the goblin as he eagerly snatched his prize.

As the goblin scrambled away warily through the trees, the scar-faced man sat down heavily on a tree root, still clutching the parcel. "Finally!" he said, and then he looked around suspiciously as if expecting someone to be listening in. A sparrow cooed and flew out of a nearby tree.

**Chapter 1: Party**

"Dammit!" "What is it this time, Jay?" "Banged my head!" "Again?" "Possibly." I, Jainda Minerva Ariana Apple Dumbledore, had started my morning ritual.

Long, strange names ran in my family on my dad's side. Luckily everyone called me Jay, because Jainda didn't really work for me (what were my parents thinking?), but my completely random first name wasn't what drew people's attention, nor was it the fact that it was such a long list of names. It was my last name. People _tend_ to notice when you're related to one of the most famous good wizards of all time.

He was my uncle, actually. My dad Aberforth was his brother. Still, I never met him. He died 7 years before I was born, but his shadow still haunts me.

Whatever I did inherit from my uncle, it certainly wasn't grace or poise. I was always one of those kids who constantly tripped going up stairs, coming down, on flat surfaces, and over my own feet. _Clumsy_ didn't even begin to cover it. I'm uncoordinated, a klutz, and I lack a single balanced bone in my body. That's why it wasn't a good idea for my parents to startle me as I shuffled down the stairs in my pajamas, rubbing at my sleepy eyes.

"Surprise!" the lights flicked on to reveal a room full of relations. I teetered on the edge of the step in shock and fell just as my trigger-happy mum snapped a picture. My tumble down half a flight of stairs ending with a huge smack to my head would be commemorated forever. I groaned with embarrassment as I sank into unconsciousness...

When I woke up my mum was waving her wand over me and muttering something. Dad always said it was a good thing he fell in love with a St. Mungos medic, because I wouldn't have survived the first 6 years of my life otherwise. My mum was the only daughter in a big family, and it seemed all 5 of my uncles had showed up to my surprise party and I saw each of their worried faces hovering above me: uncle Mark, the solid, quiet one; Uncle Larry, an Auror that I'd always secretly been a little scared of; Uncle Bart, talkative and friendly, he always crushed my ribs with his hugs; Uncle Neal, an introverted scholar who always seemed to look on kids as minor nuisances to be placated with good presents a few times a year; and lastly my favorite, Uncle Jake. He was the first one to speak. "Jay, how do you feel? That was a nasty fall, but no doubt not your worst."

"I'm fine, been there done that," I said dismissively. Brushing off my platoon of uncles, I stood up. Then it hit me: the reason for the part I had ruined. I finally spotted the huge banner with a vibrantly colored Hogwarts crest on it: "Good luck in your first year!" it said. It was a going-away party, and I realized that I had only a day before I had to get on the Hogwarts Express and hope that I wasn't too timid to get off the train. Almost more importantly, I had a day to pack, and packing was not a skill of mine; I tended to throw whatever came to hand into my bag at random and hope I had all I needed. Still, who could be bothered to pack when there was cake?

As the party resumed, I wandered around with a slice of cake in one hand and a butterbeer in the other, being congratulated by various relatives and neighbors. Still, it felt a bit oppressive. There was too much pressure; my mum hoped I'd be in Ravenclaw, my dad seemed to be okay with any house but I could tell he was secretly rooting for Gryffindor, and every single person in the room had an opinion as to what house I should be in and where I'd actually end up. To be honest, I was scared out of my mind for Hogwarts. I wouldn't know many people there, except in an odd twist Uncle Jake, who had replaced Argus Filch as caretaker and was much kinder to the students. And I did NOT want to be in Slytherin. I'd never heard anything good about it, and my own little brother, who my parents had inexplicably named Julius, had promised me he would never speak to me again if I was in Slytherin. Uncle Jake, on the other hand, had promised to do all he could to get me moved to another house if that happened. He understood my panic.

I looked over at the corner where my brother was scarfing down cake fondly. He was only eight, a cute demon who was always bouncing off the walls. Still, I couldn't help wanting to hug him, even if it meant being shocked with a Muggle prank device he bought at Weasely's Wizard Wheezes. I was going to miss him. But how could I even have time to miss him when I was sure I would die of fright first?


	2. Chapter 2: Constantinople

Sorry it has taken me so long to post this chapter, but I hope you like it!

Chapter 2: Constantinople

"Well, that's the last of the trunks," said my dad as he guided my luggage down the stairs carefully to a rest by the fireplace. He had learned the hard way that "Accio trunks!" was not the best spell to use for this kind of work. Needless to say, there was some sort of bruise salve spread on his head from my mum's kit. Julius and I smirked as he whined about his injuries from causing 4 bags to hurtle towards him at once. Yes, 4 bags. Having successfully convinced my mum to pack my bags for me ("I'm recovering from an injury, Mum, I need to rest!"), I had gone out to play Quidditch with Jules. I didn't anticipate it backfiring- Mum packed virtually my entire room, and now I was going to have to lug it onto the train.

We stood together in the living room now, as I took a fond look at the familiar yellow walls, the collection of books scattered about the room, the coffee table scratched up by my brother's Pygmy Puff. I wouldn't see it again until at least Christmas break, unless I somehow failed Hogwarts. What if there had been a mistake? What if I wasn't actually supposed to go there, I'd been rejected as not magical enough, and when I got there the teachers would say, "Sorry, you have to go back home, there's no place for you here?" At that thought I started to panic. As my dad got out the floo powder, I tried to calm down and be strong. This was not the time to hyperventilate.

And then, just like that, we all got into the fireplace with all my bags and Dad threw his fistful of floo powder into the fire. "Diagon Alley!"

From Diagon Alley we proceeded to King's Cross Station. The only kids I knew in my year were my few magical neighbors from our small town, but even as my apprehension grew, so did my excitement. This was it, Platform 9 ¾, the Hogwarts Express! I closed my eyes as I walked through the brick barrier. When I opened them I was in another world. Kids of all ages thronged around the train, owls flew over my head, and there was a loud burst of sound as old friends greeted each other. I saw some kids like me as well, small, frightened-looking young people staring out at the crowd. I locked eyes with one girl standing by a pillar in the corner for a second before we both turned away. That was when I realized that riding the train by myself was going to be incredibly awkward.

My parents walked towards some of their old friends, and Jules and I followed. I shyly looked up at adults that I barely knew as my parents talked to them about me, about my first year at Hogwarts. It felt weird to know they were talking about me, and I moved away as my mind drifted. To the right there were some tall boys and girls talking about OWL results; I guessed they were 6th years. "Hey, Jonah, what did _you_ get in Transfiguration?" "I got an E!" bragged the boy, and he took a bow. "Hah, I got an O!" said a girl. "Beat you again!" The boy muttered something about getting her next time.

I kept on looking at all sorts of different groups congregating on the platform. Transfiguration… that was what Mr. Rowst had said my wand was especially good for. I thought back to the day a month or so ago when we had gone shopping for my school supplies. The visit to Mr. Rowst's shop was the most thrilling part of the trip. It was an intriguing place that seemed to exist in a perpetual twilight, dust motes swirling through beams of light from outside. My parents said that they had visited it themselves when they were younger, but it used to belong to a famous old wandmaker named Ollivander. As I stepped into the shop, a small bell rang, but I didn't see anyone. Suddenly a ladder slid over the edge of a shelf, one of many shelves in rows and rows that seemed to go on forever. Mr. Rowst himself peered down at me through a small pair of spectacles. His shock of graying blonde hair fell into his sharp green eyes; those eyes seemed to look right through me to the street beyond.

"Ah, the Dumbledores," he remarked in a gravelly voice, still staring at me. "Mira, unicorn hair, beech, 7 ½ inches, firm, as I recall from when you came in to replace it," he said as his eyes swung over abruptly first to my mother, then my father. "Aberforth, good to see you. And your daughter, what is her name?" "Jainda," said my father roughly. I looked at him quizzically; he had an odd look of nostalgia on his face. "Her name is Jainda." "Well, Jainda, it is time for a wand to choose you." Mr. Rowst suddenly swung out of sight, and I could hear the ladder rattling on its track as it sped into the depths of the shop. He seemed to really enjoy surprising people. That was when I realized what he had said. How could the _wand_ choose me?

The afternoon passed in a blur. I tried wand after wand as Mr. Rowst muttered half to himself about the results. "No, no, too stiff… here, try this one." I was beginning to think I must not be magical after all, since no wand fit me. And then he drew out one more wand. I liked the look of it; in some inexplicable way it seemed friendly. The wand felt good in my hand, and as I waved it blue and gold sparks shot out of its end. "Yes," said Mr. Rowst, "I think this is it. Phoenix feather, rowan, 9 inches. Good for transfiguration."

The thought of my wand, stashed in my pocket at that very moment, gave me some confidence. A wand, supposedly at least, chose me; my acceptance to Hogwarts couldn't have been a mistake. Out of the blue I hit the floor, jolted back to reality. I was still on the platform, but a boy about my own age with tousled jet-black hair and a mischievous smile was standing over me worriedly. "Sorry! I didn't see you there," he said with obvious concern. "I noticed," I said dryly, but since he was the first friendly face I had seen, regardless of his knocking me to the ground, I added, "but it's okay, I'm fine." The boy stuck out a hand to help me up, and I grabbed it, taking in his jeans and the sunglasses that he obviously thought were cool. They were Muggle clothes, but most people here were wearing Muggle clothes; it was too conspicuous to walk through King's Cross in robes. "I'm Brian," he said. "Jay," I said. "Nice to meet you." "You too," he said as he walked away.

My first human contact. It was a good thing.

Saying goodbye to my parents and Julius was hard. Mum and Dad made it easy on me, being encouraging and supportive. Jules wanted to know when I'd be back, and why he couldn't go. He made me start to get emotional, and I realized that I wasn't going to see any of my family for months. But it couldn't last; after my encounter with an actual other student, I was emboldened and my enthusiasm just kept growing. I felt like I had fire in my veins; I was incredibly impatient to be off. The Hogwarts Express in the background of everything didn't exactly help. I was actually going to Hogwarts!

However, I wasn't excited about the parental checkpoints to go through before I got on the train. "Honey, this is an important milestone in your life," said my mother. I expected the usual philosophical talk about how "when you're older, you will look back on this moment" etc. Instead, Mum continued in an entirely different direction. "So we got you a going away present." "Aww!" said Jules. "I want a present!" My dad shushed him. I wondered how they could have gotten me something; there was nowhere to hide anything. Just then I heard a small coo over all the hubbub. My dad drew a medium-sized cloth-covered _something_ out of one of his huge coat pockets.

"Guys," I exclaimed, "you didn't!" I eagerly seized the cloth and pull it off. It was an owl. The smallest owl I had ever seen, admittedly, but the cute little ebony male owl would be fine for me. I was beaming from ear to ear when I heard it. "Hey," someone nearby muttered, "are they the Dumbledores?" I had forgotten all about the interest people tended to take in the family name. I finished up by farewells to my family quickly. Despite my continued excitement, I remembered that the train ride wouldn't be awkward just because I was alone. The attention could be weird too. For a second I imagined that this must be similar to what the great Harry Potter went through when he first came to Hogwarts. Still, at least I knew and understood why people knew my name and that I was a witch. Harry didn't. And girls are just more mature anyway; at least I told myself I was probably handling it much better.

"Your name is Istanbul," I told the tiny owl as I walked through the train looking for an empty compartment. I tucked Istanbul in pocket; If my dad could get away with it during floo travel and the entire trip here, so could I. Lots of other students pushed past me as I walked, and finally I came to the end of the train car I was in. The second-to-last car was empty. I looked at it sort of sadly. I had wanted an empty compartment, hadn't I? Wouldn't it be less awkward? But it felt a little lonely.

I sat down and put my most important trunk on the top rack. The others were all in the baggage car. I had a couple hours to kill before I got to Hogwarts, so I started going through my bag for something to do. I heard a yell, muffled by the compartment doors, followed by a laugh, and I heard the door to the car slam. Looking out, I saw a boy tearing wildly down the hall. The boy spotted me and yelled, "Quick! Let me in your compartment! I have to hide!" I was so bewildered that I let him in and closed the door. At that moment I heard the unmistakable sound of someone trying to open a door and accidentally walking into it. I turned around to face the boy, and as he moved his hair out of his face I recongnized him. Brian.

His eyes lit up with recognition as well. "Oh, hey, you're the girl I knocked over, whatsyourname… Jay, right?" "Yeah," I said, "and you're Brian." "That's me" he said with a smirk. "You're probably wondering why I just bolted in here. I sort of irritated one of the prefects… told him he had a swelled head… I mean, he _is_ my brother but that just made him more angry. He said I was 'undermining his authority'." He made quotation marks in the air. "Nice," I said, smiling. "Somebody has to tell them that they aren't all that, right?" I stuck out my hand for a high five and as Brian beamed, obviously glad someone agreed with him, we heard the door finally wrenched open again. "Damn!" said Brian. He quickly climbed up to the luggage rack and I threw him one of the free blankets. "Tell me when he's gone," a disembodied voice whispered from below the blanket.

By the time the snack cart rolled to a stop outside their compartment, they were laughing and chatting like old friends.

For those of you who will understand what I am talking about, and for those who don't, the reason that this chapter is called "Constantinople":

(This is a song. I did not make it up)

Istanbul was Constantinople Now it's Istanbul not Constantinople Been a long time gone Old Constantinople's still has Turkish delight On a moonlight night

Evr'y gal in Constantinople Is a Miss-stanbul, not Constantinople So if you've date in Constantinople She'll be waiting in Istanbul

...

Even old New York was once New Amsterdam Why they changed it, I can't say (People just liked it better that way)

Take me back to Constantinople No, you can't go back to Constantinople Now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople Why did Constantinople get the works? That's nobody's business but the Turks'

'stanbul!

-Molivline


	3. Chapter 3: Sparks

**Chapter 3: Sparks**

"So, where are you from?" said Brian. He was slouched in his seat with his feet up, wand held lazily in one hand. "I live in Hawkston," I replied. Seeing the usual look of confusion on his face, I added, "It's near London." He smiled and nodded, but I could tell he was still befuddled. It was a bit odd, but I didn't want to pry. He might be fun and nice, but I barely knew him.

The awkward moment was thankfully cut short by a knocking on the compartment door. A plump woman stood there, beaming, holding a cart that seemed to be sagging under the weight of all the snacks and candies on it. "Snacks, dearies?" she asked. "Yes, please," I said. Brian and I started to talk at the same time. "A Pumpkin Pasty-" "Make that two, and a few licorice wands-" "A pack of Droobles-" "Throw in some chocolate frogs." "Oh, actually, can I put the Droobles on layaway until I can get some money from my brother? What's layaway? Like reserve it, you know? I know it's only a few knuts, but I don't have enough to buy it as well as all the rest." The cart lady was looking increasingly confused. "Just forget it," said Brian with a resigned smile. We handed over the money and the lady unloaded the candy. "Thanks!" we chorused. The door slid shut again, and I said, "Good taste in candy." Brian's pile of sweets closely mirrored mine. We both grabbed a licorice wand and continued the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm from a Wizarding family," I said. "What about you? Layaway is a Muggle thing, right?" "We aren't _exactly_ a Wizarding family – my parents are Muggles, so I suppose you could say I was Muggle-born – but every one of my siblings has gotten the letter, so I always knew about the Wizarding world and followed Quidditch and all that jazz." "Wow, that must have been interesting, not many people at Hogwarts have grown up in both worlds. Wait a second… you said 'every one' of your siblings as if you had several." Brian shrugged. "I'm the youngest of six. What does it matter?"

"Well, I only have one brother, so it's kind of a big deal for me." We filled each other in on the basics of our lives, getting to know each other a bit better. When all the candy was gone, Brian started playing around with his wand. "We're allowed to do magic now, right?" "Yeah, I think so," I said. I took out my wand as well. "Did you already read some of the spellbooks?" I asked. He nodded the affirmative. "Same. I bet you can't actually do any spells yet though – I can't," I freely admitted. "I think I managed to get the levitation spell, Wingardium Leviosa, to work for a couple seconds before," Brian said. "You _think_? How can you _think_ you accomplished a spell?" I asked skeptically. "The quill didn't rise very high," he said, and although I thought it was mildly funny, I didn't laugh. For a second I had seen a hint of discomfort in his eyes, and I understood. Brian seemed like a sort of impetuous, optimistic type of person, but he wasn't impervious to problems. He just tried to avoid worrying about them. As my dad would say, he "lived in the present moment." And I liked it. It was different; I was definitely more of the pessimistic type.

"Let's try a couple of spells," I said to Brian, and I scrambled up onto the seat to get out The Standard Book of Spells, Level One. Just as Brian started to flip through it, there was a loud BANG on the door. Istanbul cheeped from his hiding place in my pocket, and Brian looked at me inquisitively. "Later," I mouthed, and I turned to the door and opened it. A boy about my height and age stood there, dark blonde hair slicked back, scowling in a way that looked like it was meant to be a nasty smile. He had a couple of other kids behind him. Damn evil minions. "I just couldn't _help_ overhearing your conversation," he drawled, holding up an Extendable Ear. "It seems you're under the impression that you can perform some spells. Let's see them."

Who was this creep? I picked something that looked easy. "Lumos," I said, waving my wand. A feeble light flickered at the end of my wand, and then it winked out again. The boy smirked. Brian said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" I held my breath and hoped it would work. I was, oddly enough considering the span of time that had passed since I first saw the boy, incensed at the idea of him thinking he was better than us. Brian did manage to make his quill levitate about a half inch off the seat, but it was obvious that we hadn't done anything amazing.

"Well, well, well, is that really the best you can do?" said the boy. "Shut up, it's not as if you could do better. Who are you, anyway? Do you have a reason for barging in here? If not, just get out," I snapped at the boy. He continued to smile infuriatingly, turning slightly towards me as if examining me. "You're the Dumbledore, aren't you? Poor show for such a supposedly skilled family. And, actually, I _can_ do better," he said. He took a dark, stubby wand out of his pocket and muttered something as he pointed it at me before I had time to react. Suddenly I couldn't stand properly, and I wobbled and then quickly sat down. It was a Jelly-Legs Jinx. The boy laughed at my antics, and I instinctively slashed my wand in his direction. A cut appeared on his jawbone.

"You'll pay for that!" the boy snarled, rubbing his jaw. He stormed out and his "friends" followed. I stared after him in shock, conflicting emotions coursing through me. On one hand, I had just done some kind of magic, and I was still trying to process how amazing that was. On the other, I had just been attacked for no apparent reason by the second person I met. Did the two things cancel each other out, one with negative implications for my life at Hogwarts, one with positive?

Brian shut the compartment door angrily, startling me out of my reverie, and walked over to me. "Are you okay?" he said. "It looked like he hit you with some kind of jinx." "Jelly Legs," I said. I tried to stand up but had to grab the windowsill for support. "Do you know anyone who would know the counterjinx?" "Sure, my sister Shannon is in the next car over. She's a fourth year, so she will probably know what to do." Brian put his arm around my shoulder so that I could use him as a crutch. I appeared that he hadn't noticed the boy saying I was a Dumbledore. That was a relief. I hadn't told him my last name, and I really was in no condition to deal with all that at the moment. We slowly proceeded down the hall.

"Well, I guess I know why that compartment was empty now," I joked as we crossed into the next car and knocked on the door of Shannon's compartment. "But really, what kind of person has fun attacking people at random? Who does that kid think he is, anyway?" The compartment door slid open, and a tall blonde girl walked out. "Hey, Brian!" she said, giving him a hug. She turned to me and smiled. "Who's your friend?" Her tone of voice made it obvious that she had noticed the arm on the shoulder. I quickly disentangled myself and almost fell over. "Her name is Jay," said Brian, "and some random kid just jinxed her." Shannon's expression quickly changed to concern. "So, Jay," she said, "a Jelly-Legs Jinx? I can fix that."

She spoke the counterjinx and my legs immediately straightened to feel normal again. "Thanks." I said. "I still can't understand why he did that, though." Shannon frowned. "Wait… what did the boy look like?" I quickly described him, and Shannon shook her head. "It's too bad. I was hoping you could avoid meeting him for a while, Brian." Shannon looked troubled. "Who is he?" I pressed on eagerly. Maybe there was a way I could help this guy see the error of his ways. Ahem.

"Have you heard of the Malfoys?" Of course, I had. Who hadn't? Rich and powerful, some of them had been Death Eaters – and the rest were straight Slytherin anyway. As Shannon talked, the situation became clear. The boy who had tried to bully us was named Trabius Malfoy. His dad – no, father was a better word – his father was Fractus Malfoy, much younger brother of the Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. Trabius was only a second year, but he was very talented at offensive spells – in both senses of the word. Within a year, he had garnered such a reputation, with his penchants for sadism and pure nastiness, that this year's third years avoided him.

Perfect. I wasn't even at Hogwarts yet, and I had made an enemy of one of the wealthiest, most malicious kids in the entire school. This was going to be fun.

The rest of the train ride, although a considerable improvement from the incident with the Malfoy boy, passed uneventfully. I dozed off and was awakened by Brian losing Exploding Snap to another classmate we had met briefly, Rinda Patil. Brian and I had become less attached at the hip as we met other people, but I had the feeling that we would remain friends. He looked over at my startled face. "Sorry, Jay, but we need to change into our robes by now, anyway." He realized what he was saying and started to blush a little, although I could tell that he didn't realize he was doing it. "I'll, uh, go now and um, leave you two." Rinda and I looked at each other and laughed.

Boys. So immature.

And then it hit me that if it was time to change, we were nearly there; Hogwarts was only minutes away. I simultaneously chewed my lip and beamed from ear to ear, showing anxiety but also anticipation. This was going to be fun.

**A/N: Just so everyone knows and doesn't accidentally spread misinformation, in the books Lucius Malfoy is never mentioned as having a brother, but I needed a Malfoy and it was simpler to give Lucius a young brother than to give Draco one, or to give Draco an additional son.**


	4. Chapter 4: Raindrops

My legs were so unsteady as I walked off the train that for a moment I thought I had been jinxed again. Leaving my bag with a porter as per my instructions, I tentatively approached a knot of smaller kids who looked nauseous. They were first years, all right. There was a quick set of introductions, and just when I was starting to feel mildly comfortable again, I heard a gruff voice call out. "Firs' years, firs' years over here please!" "Hi Hagrid!" I said. He was one of my favorite family friends; once you got over his huge size (which took a very long time when I was little) and his equally large, bushy, graying beard, he was kind and funny.

Still, I didn't know him _that_ well, and it wasn't like I talked to all of my parents' friends often. So I stood there awkwardly as I waited for Hagrid to remember who I was. He furrowed his brow as I shifted from foot to foot. Thankfully his expression soon cleared. "Hullo, Jay," he said. "How're the parents?" "Good," I replied. And that was the extent of our conversation before the crowd moved on.

I had forgotten how many teachers I would know at Hogwarts, through both my parents and Uncle Jake. It cheered me up a bit, and then I remembered that it would also be pretty awkward. Great. I could imagine what would happen: "Hello, Professor Brown." The professor, a witch with an unfortunate resemblance to a large beach ball covered with a patchwork quilt, would waddle over to me and squish me with a hug. Then she would release me and pinch my cheeks, all the while repeating, "Oh _hello_ Jainda, hello, hello, hello! It is _soooo_ good to see you, dearie!" I would have to walk to my seat with red cheeks as everyone else snickered. Professor Brown was a Divination teacher, and I knew that I wouldn't take Divination in my first year, but it was just one example of how weird it was going to be. I was starting to get sort of worried about this whole Hogwarts thing. Broken bones (usually mine), bruises and falls, talking with actual people I could deal with. But teachers weren't people per se – they were older and just… separate most of the time. Then again, I just couldn't believe that I was actually at _Hogwarts_. I had waited for this my whole life, and as I drank in the sight of the castle, my new home, my mind emptied of everything else. I shuffled along with the crowd mechanically, lost in thought… somehow failing to notice everyone else had stopped at the edge of the lake. Managing to simultaneously fall in face first and bring down several other students with me, I stood up and took a bow. My grand entrance into Hogwarts society.

As the boats drew up on the opposite side of the lake, a tall girl in my boat looked up and frowned. "Wow, it's really overcast." Sure enough, there were huge, dark clouds gathering, but I wasn't in any position to complain – at least about that. I was sitting in the back of the boat, thinking something along the lines of, "Yes, shit happens. Why does it always happen to me?" Absolutely soaked through, I asked my companions, "Any particular reason no one decided to mention there was a GIANT SQUID? No? Just checking."

Brian laughed. "Well, maybe if you hadn't gotten the stickiness from that last licorice wand all over your hand before you started trailing it in the water, then you wouldn't have been splashed when the squid tried to grab the licorice. You're going to have get used to this kind of thing; you're at Hogwarts now!" We all clambered out of the boat, some – well, me – slower than others. An austere-looking woman glanced down at me distastefully from the top of a set of stone steps. She flicked her wand ant me and suddenly steam rose from my clothes, drying them instantly. I was about to thank her when I realized that she had already walked off to shepherd the rest of the first years, shoes clicking and pointy hat accentuating her height. "Professor Farran, assistant Headmistress." Brian whispered. "Apparently she's related to the last Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. She's a cat Animagus too."

Professor Farran made a short speech, and we moved on to another room to wait. Actually, all the waiting was slowly killing my brain cells. All I could think of was the sorting. How exactly were you sorted, anyway? I wove my way through the crowd, trying to find someone else I knew in the confusion, without success. I did manage to put myself completely on edge, however. As I moved along, I heard whispers of what other kids had heard about the sorting. "They test if you can use magic yet, and if you can't do it they send you home!" "My brother told me they throw you to the giant squid, and you're sorted by how much you panic!" Needless to say, I was panicking already. As I started to hyperventilate, a cold hand touched my shoulder. "It's okay, young 'un. The Sorting's not that bad. Ahhh, I remember the day of my sorting. Hufflepuff! I was so proud. Of course, that was a long time ago. I wasn't carrying quite as many pounds then, either." I turned around slowly. It was probably one of those friendly, kooky teachers that you found everywhere. You had to humor them. But once I got a good look at the person, I froze, petrified. A bald, short and immensely fat monk of some sort stood in front of me, beaming. He reminded me a little of pictures I'd seen of the Muggle Santa Claus. That wasn't what startled me, however. The rotund, jovial man floated above the floor, his whole body translucent. It was a ghost.

It wasn't as if I was a Muggle child who thought ghosts were imaginary – maybe – as well as evil. I didn't hide under the covers at night expecting the Headless Horseman to come get me, but I had never actually seen a ghost before. It was shocking to meet one so suddenly. The monk looked at me indulgently. "Ah, never seen a ghost before, have you child? Don't worry, I won't bite. I only eat meat, fruit, vegetables, seafood, mushrooms, dairy products, and dessert – yes, dessert is a food group!" he mumbled to himself as he drifted off. "That was certainly an odd encounter," I thought as I stared after him. How many more oddballs, living and dead, was I going to meet today? "Who was that ghost?" I wondered aloud.

A short boy with glasses who was nearby turned around and looked at me, then walked over. "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. I'm Derek. That was the Fat Friar. He's the Hufflepuff ghost. The Friar is pretty friendly, but I advise you to avoid the Bloody Baron… he bites." I looked at him in alarm. "How do you know all this?" "Hogwarts, a History. Didn't you read it? Did you know the Great Hall's ceiling is charmed to look like the sky outside? It's going to be really dark tonight…" he chattered on. This kid was really studious. He would most likely be a Ravenclaw. I didn't have much time to think about that, however, because Derek started to act very strangely, jumping around and slapping at himself like an insane person, screaming, "OW! Ouch! Damn Merlin's _!" the whole time. Boy did that kid have a mouth on him. I slowly started to back away, hands up in front of me defensively, but in the crowded room there wasn't much space to maneuver. I was getting worried – what was up with this place? People were starting to point and stare. Someone called for Professor Farran when Derek started to float in midair.

She hurried over, but she looked more mildly irritated than concerned. Farran flicked her wand lazily at Derek, and he was slowly lowered to the floor. Most of us were staring at him as he went down, so we didn't scream with the others. They had seen what we had missed: the slow materialization of another ghost, but one that looked substantially more – well, substantial. "Peeves!" said Professor Farran in a curt tone. "Leave the first years alone." "Oooh, are the little firsties scared of Peevsie? But he's not that scary!" the ghost said as he swooped towards a bunch of kids, who promptly screamed at high pitches. Farran gave him a glare, and he sped off. I wasn't surprised. That woman gave the scariest, sternest evil eye I had ever seen. The expression on her face seemed to say, Really? You really think you can get away with that? Go ahead, be my guest, just see what happens. It was the same look I had once seen on a Muggle biker's face before he punched a guy in the nose. Yep, Farran was intense.

Farran turned around and helped Derek up. She checked him for injuries, just like I'd seen my mum do many times with patients, and began to talk to us. "It is time for the sorting, children. We will proceed alphabetically. Please follow me to the Great Hall." Abruptly she turned on her heel and walked towards the door. I stared after her with a kind of awe as I shuffled along with the other first years. Although we were all tense, more so from our first taste of life at Hogwarts, there was an unmistakable current of excitement in the crowd. Bound together by the same nervous, happy energy, we all started to talk to each other more loosely. As we filed out of the room, the girl next to me turned and introduced herself. "I'm Juliet Tenega. But please don't call me that. Brings back too many memories of bad jokes in my Muggle school when I was younger." "I'm Jainda," I said. "But don't call me that either. To everyone in the world except my grandma, I'm Jay. Do you have any idea which house you'll be in? I don't." Juliet looked back at me for a minute before responding, as if she was making a decision of some sort, her vaguely Mediterranean features framed by the short, blonde-brown hair falling around her face. I noticed with a jolt that her eyes were pure purple. She must have decided I was trustworthy or something, because she continued. "Most of my family has been in Gryffindor, so I'll probably end up there. My big brother is a seventh year Gryffindor already, so he can show me the ropes." I smiled and was about to continue the conversation when we entered the Great Hall. We both fell silent at the sight of a huge, beautiful banquet hall with floating candles and a dark ceiling with clouds moving across it. The main intimidation point, however, was the hundreds of faces staring at us intently. I swallowed nervously as we came to a stop in a big gaggle of kids our age milling around and staring at a tattered, patched old hat. It had to be the Sorting Hat. Apparently at least one of the rumors about the Sorting was true. Farran called for silence – hardly necessary, since it had been as completely silent ever since we had entered – and began to call out the names.

"Arthur, Benjamin." "Borodale, Margaret." "Chister, Avery." The As, Bs, and Cs passed in a blur of kids putting on the hat, the hat screaming a name, and one or another table exploding into cheers. All too soon I was standing almost at the head of the line and chewing my lip in anticipation. "Dulstan, Henry." Crap. This was it. I was next. A small boy shuffled to the stool and put the hat on gingerly. It flopped over his eyes, but you could see his hands trembling as they gripped the stool. For a few seconds, there was perfect silence. "HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat suddenly shouted, and the hall erupted into cheers as the boy sprinted to the table and away from the staring eyes of the crowd.

"Dumbledore, Jainda." As I walked forward slowly, I could both see and hear the ripple that swept the crowd. I wasn't prepared for this, not ready to be categorized and judged for it. And if I was in Slytherin, I would die. I couldn't stand to realize that I was devious and underhanded, or bear my rejection by my house due to my family name, and the judgment and rejection of the rest of the school for "betraying" my uncle. Shit shit shit now I had to put the hat on. I sat down and closed my eyes. I nearly fell out of my skin when it started talking inside my head. "Hmm… not a Hufflepuff, definitely not… you could be a Ravenclaw, you know, you're smarter than you give yourself credit for." I was? I had always thought of myself as fairly average. "Oh yes, you are quite smart, but there is a highly cunning mind there as well. Slytherin perhaps…" Oh god no. One of my worst fears was coming true. Not Slytherin, _anything_ but Slytherin. "You're not the first to make that request, you know… how well I remember that day…" Silence. "GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat shouted. I heaved a sigh of relief and ran over to the Gryffindor table to deafening cheers. Thank Merlin.

The rest of the Sorting passed in another blur, only slowing down long enough for me to register the sortings of those I had met. Derek went to Ravenclaw as soon as the Sorting Hat touched his head – shocker there – and "Tenega, Juliet," triumphantly joined me at the Gryffindor table. But Brian sat on the stool with the Sorting Hat on for a very long time. He sat there, his face white with fear, for a full minute before the hat declared him a Hufflepuff. He ambled over to their table, looking back at me with a wry smile. We were separated now, and that sucked. Why didn't he look even sadder? But I mean, what did it really matter? Brian had no obligation to be sad. We'd only known each other for a couple of hours, and it wasn't as if we were _super_ close. But – well, had we been on track to be good friends? Brian was smart, kind, understanding, cute… I mean friendly. Yes, friendly. I don't like Brian. Of course not. Why would I? How did I get on this topic? I shook myself back to reality. With the Sorting over, it was time for the feast. I grabbed a drumstick and took a bite. It was at that very moment that my life truly changed. Although Hogwarts was a big shift, it was prepared for and expected for years. No one expected the Sorting Hat to suddenly open its mouth-brim after all this time. "Look," the hat said. "The ceiling!" Instead of the swirling, dawdling storm clouds formerly filling the vista, just one had replaced them. One huge, moving, ominous cloud. The Dark Mark. This was about the moment that the hall exploded in screams.

A/N: Review. Grazie.


	5. Chapter 5: Unease

**Chapter 5: Unease**

Headmaster Macmillan whipped around to face the staff and pointed at a few who immediately ran off, grim-faced. A pair of 7th years, a boy and a girl, started to organize their grade – I guessed they were the Head Girl and Boy. But I registered all this mechanically, like a sailor busy battling a storm that threatens to smash her to pieces involuntarily notes the need to stop to eat and drink. It was all in my subconscious; my conscious mind was close to blank with fear. The sailor analogy painted too brave a picture. Rather, my immediate reaction was to cower under the table. I'd heard terrible stories of past events that had warranted the projection of that cloud of smoke, eerily lit by lightning, the gruesome skull grinning as a snake slipped between its teeth. Death Eaters would perform the spell whenever they had some kind of success. I blocked out my brain's unhelpful reminder that such a sign had been seen when my uncle was killed.

All this flashed through my head in only a few seconds. While I saw many around me screaming, I was speechless. The mouth of Juliet, who I had decided to call Jules, was hanging open; she was also struck dumb. However, in a few moments she closed her mouth, swallowed hard, and turned to stoically face the staff table in hope of instructions. Strengthened, I turned to the front as well and tried to block out my fear. All down the table I saw similar chain reactions. Not for nothing were Gryffindors known as brave souls. I saw other ripple effects slowly begin at the other tables. Then the Headmaster called out calmly, "Please quiet down. It is imperative that you allow us to take care of you in order that we might secure the school." The hall fell silent, and soon we began to file out following the prefects. I couldn't stop myself from sneaking a final peek at an instrument of fear that hadn't been seen since before I was born.

Despite the tension, which was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife, I couldn't suppress my sheer awe as we moved nervously through the school towards the Gryffindor tower. Neither could many of my new classmates. The only sounds I heard the whole way, apart from the click of shoes on stone, the occasional movement of staircases, and the muffled sobbing of a few extremely traumatized kids, was sharp intakes of breath at almost everything we passed. Steps arbitrarily disappeared, suits of armor ran around o their own volition, and ghosts floated about talking. But even as I drank in the sight of my new home, I noticed that the entire castle was in defense mode. The ghosts were talking in hushed, anxious tones, and the suits of armor? I got the feeling that they didn't usually clank about the school.

Eventually we stopped at a large portrait of an even larger lady. She wore a distressed look on her face. "Is it true, Terrence?" she asked the prefect leading us. "I've heard – it's not really the, the…" "I'm afraid so," the prefect answered gravely. "We really must get inside. Mandrake root," he sighed. At that, the painting swung open to reveal the Gryffindor common room.

During the course of the evening, I sat with Jules eating what would have been the feast as all around us friends reunited, classmates worried, and everyone tried to celebrate together. Still, it was difficult to concentrate on a party to start off the school year when every so often a teacher would dash in to check that we hadn't all been murdered.

A cloud still hung over the school, literally and figuratively, the next morning. Whispers floated around the hallways, fear concealed and denied in the guise of gossip. I was never the type to be interested in rumors, and, thank God, neither was Jules, so we found ourselves pushed to the side, out of the flow of conversation, all throughout breakfast. We weren't the only ones – small islands dotted the Great Hall, groups of two and three and sometimes just one lonely kid. Each had his or her own reasons. As I drank my pumpkin juice, one of my new roommates broke away from a gaggle of other first years nearby as tears started to tentatively creep their way down her face. "Hey," I whispered. "What is it, Angie?" She quickly wiped her eyes and gave me a sad smile. "Oh, we were just talking about the Dark Mark," –surprisingly, I _had_ realized that – "and it made me think about my grandpa. He was never quite right after what the Death Eaters did to him; he never really got well. I used to visit him at St. Mungo's when I was little, but he died." I softened like a marshmallow, my cynicism (well, some of it) dropping away. I gave Angie a long hug, stroking her inky-black hair and rocking her from side to side until her internal faucet started to ease off. Something hung between us in the silent second in which each of us let go and flashed the other an awkward grin as acknowledgement of what had passed. Was a shared moment in time? A bond? Anyone's guess, even my little brother's, was as good as mine here. It was always difficult to tell for the first month at a new school. I returned to Juliet, and she asked me what that had been about. I could hardly say myself, finally choking out, "Her grandpa died because of Death Eaters." And life went on.

I raced through my first classes that day. Mostly we were just being introduced to the subjects. As expected, Professor Farran taught Transfiguration – another parallel with her famous relative, Professor McGonagall. That was fun. Our class flipped out when the cat some of us had already decided to nickname "Purrlin" turned into our teacher. I really liked Transfiguration so far. It seemed like something I would be able to understand. Also, transforming things was exciting – and not all classes were. Having a ghost for a teacher _sounded_ interesting until we actually entered the classroom. Professor Binns was the most boring ghost alive – I mean, dead – but I could already tell this would be a great class to catch up on sleep in.

I was looking forward to Herbology, a double with the Hufflepuffs, as the last class of the day and a chance to see Brian again. We were escorted to the greenhouses by a quartet of stony-faced Aurors, but even their dirty looks couldn't get us first years to shut up. We had survived our first day here, and we were damn proud of it! Someone produced some Bertie Botts' from inside their roves, and we made the walk down a bit of a party, laughing and talking about all that had happened that day. When we finally arrived, the Hufflepuffs looked slightly jealous. I caught sight of Brian, and as we made eye contact his face lit up and he waved furiously. But all too soon we were swept into the greenhouse and Professor Longbottom, one of the teachers I knew, gave me a wink and immediately announced assigned partners for the day. A chorus of "Awwwww"s and "Oh, man"s went up from the class. Longbottom laughed. "It's only your first day, so I want you to get to know each other. But don't worry, you'll be with your own house. You can start new inter-House friendships _next_ week!" Juliet shot me a look that clearly said, "Kill me now. Please. Before this assigned partners idea kills me slowly." I wasn't too concerned – I just hoped I was never stuck with a Slytherin during a double class.

As Longbottom started to read off the list of names, people started to mill around the greenhouse, looking for their partners in pruning raftervines. I was pretty disappointed that we weren't working with something more dangerous – there were raftervines in my backyard – but at least we were doing some practical stuff. The thought of my backyard brought my thoughts to my family, even as Jules moved away to find her partner. Did they miss me? I was already wishing I had my little brother here. He might be annoying, but at least I could boss him around. Here I was the youngest. I was distracted from my thoughts by a wobbling figure making its way towards me. It seemed that the boy behind the two pots of vines was having some trouble carrying the both of them. He looked like he would be falling on his face any second now. Lots of people were laughing, but he seemed to be taking it in stride, tipping an imaginary hat in the direction of the laughers. I moved towards him to help, quietly laughing myself and shaking my head at my fellow klutz, when his bravado backfired and he slipped and nearly fell. The boy, whose sandy blond hair I now saw flying in the air, quickly righted himself and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He failed to notice that his slip had sent one of the pts flying and that it was about to fall on his head right as he took a bow.

I knew I would never reach him in time, but since I had already moved I felt committed to helping the guy. Desperately I flung my arm with my wand out in his direction and covered my eyes against the crash. I knew what was about to come. But all I heard was more clapping, and I opened my eyes to see the pot stopped in midair. I beamed. And then the idiot, oblivious, straightened up from his prolonged bow and smashed his head on the pot anyway. I gave him a "Really?" look as the dirt crumbled down his face like raindrops. "Hey, I think we're partners. Are you Jainda? I'm Charlie."

I was irritated at this guy. He just stole my thunder; he ruined my magic! "Wow, we've got a real genius in the house. Look who knows his own name!" I was looking for a fight, but Charlie wasn't going to give me one. "I know, I know, my falling skills can't be matched. My mum always told me that dropping me on my head as a baby was the best thing she ever did. Not only did she give me practice for the rest of my life, but she also stopped me from become an evil mastermind. Killed a few brain cells. 'Cause that was definitely going to be my career path." Cooling off now, I smirked at him. "Ya know, you're kind of funny." "That's my job," Charlie winked. "Now, how about those raftervines…"

About an hour later, we stumbled out of greenhouse one together, laughing. "No, really, she did fall right into the barrel of newt's eyes at the apothecary. Can you imagine, me standing there, my little sister on my dad's shoulders, she leans over to take a look and –" "Hang on, Charlie," I interrupted. "HEY JULES! COME OVER HERE!" Juliet waved to her partner and loped over to us. "Jules, Charlie. Charlie, Juliet." "Hi," Charlie said amiably, hands in his pockets. "Hey, cutie," said Jules. I glared at her. "Don't worry, you're not my type," he said easily. Jules laughed. "I was just messing with you. Nice to meet ya, Charlie." She stuck out her hand for high five. Charlie swooped in and stuck his fist under her hand. "Turkey!" he crowed. "No way! You know those things too?" They bumped fists and flashed their hands away in slow-motion. "Jellyfish, jellyfish, jellyfish!" I rolled my eyes and joined in.

"Nice! We have no homework tonight!" "We still have to read chapter one of The Standard Book of Spells," Jules reminded Charlie. "Yeah, but I already did that on the train when I was trying to do some magic." "Me too!" I piped up. We were in the process of climbing the stairs to the Gryffindor tower. The only problem was that we really had no idea how to get where we were going. Charlie and I both looked at Jules. "Guilty!" she confessed. "But it's not _that_ important, and I can read it in the morning." "So, basically, we have the next few hours to ourselves!" Charlie skipped ahead of us with glee. "Come on guys, let's get to the common room! I think I recognize that painting! No one else could have a nose that ugly." The witch in the painting scowled at him. At that moment, however, Charlie's foot sunk into a trick step and Jules and I rushed to assist him. As we did so, the stairs started to move. Crap.

"Okay, we have to get moving now! One, two, three, PULL!" Jules and I heaved on Charlie's arms. "Aw, we aren't _that_ weak, are we? Damn, I really need to work before I can play another game of Quidditch without embarrassing myself," I mused. "Hey, Miss Inadequate? We need this done _now_," Jules exclaimed. We yanked on Charlie's arms again and his leg popped out of its prison of swirled marble. But it was too late, our ship had sailed. Or, rather, our staircase had completed its move. "Great. Now we have to wait for the staircase to swing back again," I grumbled, moving to sit on the steps. Jules stopped me. "What are you talking about? We could be waiting here for an hour (if my brother wasn't just trying to scare me). I'll lead us back. In words and action, she radiated confidence. She had her hands on her hips, and I was hard-pressed no to burst out laughing when I realized my friend Jules was subconsciously trying to be a superhero. I didn't want to say anything though, and I sort of admired her nerve, so I kept quiet and let Charlie voice our shared skepticism. "Yeah, sure. This'll work _so_ well why?" A hint of a tremble entered his voice. "Besides, they still haven't caught whoever cast the Dark Mark." "Lighten up!" Jules scoffed. "The Aurors have it all under control." She threw up her hands in mock exasperation. "Don't you two have a sense of _adventure_ for me to appeal to?" Charlie and I exchanged gazes. Then we looked back at Jules and shook our heads in unison. "Nope only on Saturdays." "I'm not a fan of getting killed, thank you." "C'mon, you know you want to." Jules bounded off the stairs to the platform.

I was about to call up to her that I was staying right here when I noticed what was behind her willowy frame. Huge double doors stretched the width of the platform. They looked ancient, their formerly stark black paint faded to mushroom grey except in a few spots and flaking to boot. Each door was divided into two vertical compartments with vines, one door blooming with flowers, the other with animals prowling the border. They were altogether enthralling, and I had never seen anything quite like them. I found myself drawn to the doors, and suddenly I realized there was magic about. It wasn't the doors at work here, but something beyond them that was tugging at me, and I needed to know what that was. In a vague way, as we ascended the steps together, I realized that a similar drama had been playing out in Charlie's mind, and that Jules was somehow unaffected by this mysterious pull. She just wanted an adventure.

"Finally come to your senses, have you?" Juliet said, turning to open the doors. They were locked. I pulled out my wand before realizing that I didn't actually know a spell for locks, and I hastily replaced it in my pocket. "'S okay." Jules spoke out of the side of her mouth, as she was holding a hairpin in it while she rummaged around for another. Finding it, she shoved both pins into the lock and fiddled around for a bit. It clicked open. Charlie looked at Jules warily. "What did you _do_ before you came here?" he asked. "Oh, this and that," Jules replied airily, avoiding the question. I frowned but kept my mouth shut. Jules would tell us in good time.

The girl in question opened the door with a flourish. "You may enter," she said, bowing low. I laughed and walked in. As the door shut behind us, we found ourselves in a rather dark stone hallway with only a few torches shedding light. Not far ahead the hall curved to the right. I instinctively knew this was where the source of the pull was. It was stronger here. As we walked down the hallway it was eerily silent, the only sound the quiet click of our footsteps. Charlie's sneaker squeaked, and we all winced. The place had an ominous feeling, an air of being forbidden, and none of us wanted to get caught. We turned the corner and I saw it. A long package lay innocently on a round table bathed in light from a circular hole in the ceiling, never mind where that mysterious light came from. But it was definitely not innocent. I felt that this was the source of the tugging, and I could see that Charlie was having trouble not running straight over to it. "What is it?" Jules spoke with quiet awe. I reached out a hand towards it, and Charlie took another step. That was the trigger. He must have crossed some unseen line, because suddenly it grew darker and the unmistakable sound hooves echoed all around the round chamber. Out of the gloom stepped a large, purple-grey, four-footed beast with long horns. "Uh-oh," I said, fear making my voice squeaky. "It's a Graphorn." "What exactly does that mean?" asked Charlie, wide-eyed. He started to ease back. "It means get the hell out of here!" As one, we turned and ran for our lives. The beast snorted and galloped after us, breathing down our necks. I was too terrified to scream, and I slammed into the door before I could get it open. We scrambled out and shut the door. I closed my eyes, expecting to be speared by the graphorn through the door, but the attack never came. When I opened them we were still outside of the mysterious hallway with the door shut tight. Jules was panting hard from her sprint, hands on her knees, and Charlie was patting himself all over, frantically checking that he was intact. I looked back through the keyhole. The graphorn still stood on the other side, snorting and stomping its feet as if it wished to pursue but for some reason knew it could not. I sighed, leaning with my back against the door, and slid down to sit on the stone tiles. Suddenly we all began to laugh nervously together, the tension slowly releasing. "Did you see the look on Charlie's face?" "Hey, you weren't any better! 'Oh no, it's a hue purple beast, run guys!'" Jules piped up, "Let's do that again!" and we dissolved into another heap of laughter.

We got on the stairs just as they started to move back to our former position and somehow made our way to the common room. As we sank into a couple of huge, puffy armchairs, Charlie sobered up. "Seriously guys, what was that package? Jules, why didn't you feel its… magnetism? You must have noticed that Jay and I were acting oddly." "I did, but I figured that you guys had finally found some of your Gryffindor courage. The reason that I wasn't affected… that's a little more complicated." Jules pulled out a necklace with a small amethyst pendant out from under her shirt. "My uncle gave me this amulet when I was little. It prevents charms from being cast on me, so I have to take it off for class. It must have protected me from whatever was in that package. Oh, it also makes my eyes purple while I'm wearing it." She trailed off into silence. Jules' explanation didn't seem all that complicated to me, but I sensed she was holding something back. I didn't plan on pressing her, however; I had other problems. "Do we tell the school or not?" I said simply, putting to words the question that must have been floating in each of our heads. We debated for a time. Jules was against it, arguing that we weren't supposed to be in there, but then she certainly seemed to have a healthy disdain of authority. Charlie was unsure, flip-flopping back and forth, while I was leaning towards confessing; I knew my uncle Jake, who loved magical creatures, could find a fix. Eventually we decided to keep quiet. Jules was right; we would most likely get in trouble and it was probably some project monitored by the school anyway. "Although they should put up better warnings!" I complained.

We tried not to talk about the incident for the rest of the night, wanting to put it off a bit and regain our composures. At dinner, we were sitting together talking about Quidditch teams, and as Charlie was Muggle-born, despite seeming comfortable with Hogwarts, we told him all about the best sport in the world. It was then that it suddenly hit me. I face palmed and groaned. "What is it?" said Charlie concernedly. "Jules, I'm an idiot," I said. "I gave you the same nickname as my brother Julius! No wonder it felt so natural." Jules burst out laughing. "Skill, my friend, skill. It's okay; I like the nickname Jules. Your brother will just have to deal." We had joked about it for a little longer when Jules said, "That reminds me. Your name is really long – Jay Minerva something Apple Dumbledore, right? Well –" Charlie interrupted. "_Apple_? _Apple_? That is not seriously your middle name. I'm totally nicknaming you Macintosh now! Apple!" He gasped for breath in between laughs as he rolled on the floor. Charlie was starting to draw some odd looks. "Oh, very funny Charles – I don't know your full name. Boo. What were you saying, Jules?" "Well, you're a Dumbledore," Jules said slowly, "so you're obviously related to _the_ Dumbledore." "Yeah, he was my uncle," I said guardedly. "What's it to ya?" "Remember that girl Angie who was crying at breakfast? Why aren't you freaking out? The Dark Mark is still outside," – she pointed to the ceiling – "and your uncle, well, died under a Dark Mark at Hogwarts." There was an awkward silence. "Thanks for that," I muttered. My insides were churning. I grabbed my plate and a cookie, and in the background I heard Charlie berating Jules for her lack of tack. "I think I'll finish eating upstairs," I heard myself say, as I walked away, the barriers I had had up all day before the graphorn swept them from my mind gone, out through the doors of the Great Hall and back to the comfort of my bed.

**A/N: REVIEW! thanks**


	6. Chapter 6: Ink

**Chapter 6: Ink**

The Fat Lady gazed sympathetically at my tear-stained face and opened her mouth to speak as I drew closer, but I just burst through the portrait hole and stalked up the stairs to my dormitory. I hadn't been able to stop the pain from flowing before I reached the Gryffindor tower. Flopping down on my bed, I thanked my lucky stars that none of the other girls had skipped dinner and stayed up here. There were one or two girls who I had pegged as potential anorexics. Being that skinny could_ not_ be natural. Then again, I wasn't eating tonight either – somehow I had lost my appetite. In any case, I was lucky enough to be alone with my thoughts. But maybe that wasn't such a luxury. I just wanted to bury the feelings that swarmed over me. I couldn't deal with them all at once. Shoving my head under my pillow as if trying to hide, from what I wasn't entirely sure, I pulled it down tightly to block out all the light so that I could lay on my bed in peace. Light represented happiness, and happy was _not_ what I was feeling at the moment.

I felt grief for the demise of my uncle and countless others at the hands of callous Death Eaters. I was sad, heartbroken for Angie, for myself, and everyone else, Muggle or magical, who had suffered the loss of someone they loved. But mostly, I sorrowed for myself.

I know, I know, you're not supposed to wallow in self-pity, but that's exactly what I was doing. My uncle was dead, I was at a new school by myself and had already made an enemy (even if I hadn't seen him around a lot), and my new friends didn't seem to be helping all that much. And also – shit. I realized exactly why I had become so unhinged at Juliet's careless comment, what it was that my pillow and my trusty teddy bear, Tommy, were supposed to protect me from. I flung my pillow off my face and snatched the curtains, pulling them all around me. Thank God for canopy beds. Then I grabbed my pillow and Tommy and hid myself again. Why? Well, if You-Know-Who – V, Voldemort – and his supporters had seen fit to murder one Dumbledore, what would an intruder using his personal sign think to do to another?

I shivered in trepidation, imagining that I heard footsteps on the stairs. My pitiful mourning for the dead had ended. I couldn't even work up the energy to get mad at Jules. She had only put words to something that had been maliciously lurking in the back of my mind all day long. Beyond that, though, was the fact that my fear blocked everything else. It was worse than when I had first caught sight of the Dark Mark, because now its true significance had dawned on me. I found myself short of air and took a hasty breath. If I was even forgetting to breathe, I was perhaps even more freaked out subconsciously than I realized. Now I was sure that there were footsteps on the landing. The door slowly creaked open, and an earsplitting shriek rent the air. I only understood that I had made the sound when I became aware that I had thrown both pillow and Tommy into the air and curled up deep beneath my blankets. I heard the visitor speak. With tentative, halting tones, a female voice rang out. "Um, Jay? It's me, Jules. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm – I'm sorry."

I slowly pulled back the blankets and crawled out to sit cross-legged, clutching my wet pillow. Jules stood there awkwardly, twisting the corner of her shirt. "Sorry that I screamed when you came in. I'm a little… on edge right now," I said. Jules gave me a concerned look. "I know, Jay, and it's all my fault!" She started talking a mile a minute. "Look, I'm so sorry that I brought that up it was really tactless of me and I'm just kind of foot in the mouth, you know, and like somebody said in a Muggle movie, "It's a disease, one without a cure," and I'll try to do better, and I'm sure that the Mark had nothing to do with you, Jay, you're going to be fine, I'm sorry about your uncle, and Jay, I'm so, so sorry –" I cut her off. "It's okay, Jules, really. I know you weren't trying to freak me out. And I'm feeling better now. Honestly, I was a lot more scared when I was here by myself. We sort of smiled at each other and hugged. We sat on my bed quietly for a long time. When she slipped back down to dinner, I slept soundly.

As time passed, we all grew to feel more secure, not only forgetting the wrenching sight of the Dark Mark but also growing closer and into deeper friendship. Beyond that, however, was figuring out how to deal with an abundance of schoolwork. We fell into a sort of pattern: Jules turned out to be a compulsive note-taker, so Charlie and I relied on her when studying for tests and quizzes. I was surprised to find myself the go-to girl for homework help. The Sorting Hat's words rung in my head: "You could be in Ravenclaw, you know, you're smarter than you give yourself credit for." I supposed I was, now that I was earning a few points for my house in nearly every class, especially my favorite, Transfiguration, and getting a grip on the way to master spells. Still, I simply hadn't expected it, because I had never been one of the top students at my Muggle school, aside from English class. Perhaps I just had more of an affinity for magic, and more motivation. At any rate, the role of Charlie, the third of our little band, was a little more enigmatic. He didn't clearly contribute or mooch off our work – completely, at least; instead, he would offer sudden bits of insight at seemingly random moments. Whatever. I guessed that it was just a Charlie thing.

Despite our best efforts – well, sometimes our best – we were drowning in work. My hands were constantly ink-stained, and I hate to admit it, but for the first couple of days my hand got sore from holding my wand. Don't judge me! I wasn't used to it, okay? It wasn't as if I was that weak. I had been an all-star Keeper in the kid's Quidditch league back in my hometown, and let me tell you, our coach liked to make us run when we screwed up. And when we didn't. And daily. And do wall-sits, get lectured, and _then_ run when he was in a bad mood.

So I was in shape. I really missed Quidditch, though – you weren't usually allowed to play on the House team as a first year unless there was a position that desperately needed to be filled. I was hoping to start a pick-up game on Saturday, but I needed to find enough first years for two teams. Charlie was enthusiastic, but since he was Muggle-born, he wouldn't know what he was doing. Jules had reacted oddly to the proposition. "My family never had time for Quidditch," she said roughly, practically sprinting away from me. "No time for _Quidditch_? The greatest sport on Earth?" I spluttered after her, but Jules didn't hear me, or deliberately ignored the question. I chalked it up to embarrassment and moved on, but something about the way she had fled the scene left me with a little voice in my head telling me that it was something beyond that. In any case, other than them I had gathered a couple guy friends and some of my roommates to play, but it still wasn't enough. The person I hoped to ask next was that girl Angie. She seemed nice, and I'd heard she was into Quidditch. Hopefully it was true that she liked Puddlemere United. That was my second favorite team after the Holyhead Harpies.

Quidditch was the farthest thing from my mind as Jules, Charlie, and I walked down to Greenhouse 1 yet again. Today was the day Professor Longbottom had promised us Hufflepuff partners. Other than that, they were unassigned. To me, that meant one thing: hanging out with Brian. I had barely seen him since he had been sorted, so I was really looking forward to our reunion.

I didn't notice that I was practically bouncing with enthusiasm until Charlie commented n it. "Jeez, Macintosh, I know this is the two-week anniversary of our meeting, but could you calm down a little? Sure, I know I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread –" I didn't get that, but I guessed it was a Muggle saying – "but your fidgeting is making me nervous." "Sorry, Charlie." I self-consciously hooked a strand of hair behind my ear. I had forgotten about the occasion, but I wasn't planning on telling Charlie what I was actually apologizing for. Still, the way that Jules was looking at me, one eyebrow raised just the slightest amount, said that _someone_ could tell that there was something considerably more interesting on my mind.

I carefully avoided her gaze as we reached the greenhouses. With the threat fading, there were no Ministry escorts anymore; students were straggling over in twos and threes. However, a pair of bored-looking Aurors still stood nearby. Brian did not. I was about to panic when I realized that firstly, most of the Hufflepuffs still had not arrived, and secondly that flipping out would make it difficult to avoid the inevitable awkward questions. Instead I just waited until I would see him. And the moment that I finally caught sight of Brian's face, it felt like the sun was rising.

Okay, I'm getting really lyrical here, I know, it's embarrassing, but the moment just seemed so perfect. He flashed me a smile. I was already drifting towards him, having slipped away from my buddies, who were conveniently distracted by another Hufflepuff. _He_ asked _me_ to be his partner first, and conversation just flowed the whole time. Everything fit together. Also, who am I kidding? The guy was nice and friendly and kind of perfect, and as hard as it was to admit – actually, it was far too easy – he was cute. Really cute.

Funnily enough, that was the only class that whole week that I didn't remember anything about. Except – well, except Brian's eyes. So… where was I? Right, um, well, class went well I guess, and all too soon I was trudging back to the Gryffindor tower. I was daydreaming, not playing much attention to my route as I walked (I could do that now, ever since Jules' older brother Terrence taught us the various ways to reach the Fat Lady), when I heard a loud spitting noise. Turning, I found that the source of the noise was a portrait of an old witch, the one whose nose Charlie had called ugly. Now every time any of us passed by, she glared and tried some new way of showing her anger, in this case spitting at me, despite the fact that nothing was actually coming out of the painting. I kept thinking that she would run out of different ways to annoy us – we passed by often, and there were months and months left in the school year – but thus far the witch remained creative. Creative, as in convincing Peeves (not that that was ever a difficult task) to pelt us with quills and other classroom debris at unfortunate moments, "Compliments of the witch on the fifth floor." Spitting was relatively tame for her, so that wasn't what gave me pause. I was caught off guard by suddenly finding myself back at the spot of my little adventure. And as Charlie had pointed out, today was a day of anniversaries.

I knew, then, that we couldn't put off discussing what was behind the double doors not twenty feet from where I stood. It was time to stop skirting around the issue and address it. I fairly flew up to the Gryffindor tower then, ignoring the witch's portrait and the indignant ghost I sped through, although I did hear something that sounded like, "Children these days…" After giving the password (this week it was bezoar), I couldn't wait for the Fat Lady to open properly and instead clambered through as she was still swinging to one side. I took the stairs to Charlie's dorm two at a time and then quickly rapped on the door. "Charlie, get out here!" I heard a confused "Whaaaa?" sound from inside, so, rolling my eyes, I opened the door and entered.

I had never been here before, but I saw that the guys had four-poster beds, the same as us, and I spotted Charlie more than half-asleep in one. As I began to walk towards him, a burly guy named Anthony blocked my way. "You're not supposed to be in here," he said gruffly. It was only then that I noticed that everyone was staring at _the girl_. Everyone, that is, except for Charlie. "You have three options," I told Anthony in a sugary voice. "One, you let me through, I wake up Charlie, we leave. Two, I jinx you or kick you somewhere unpleasant, I get Charlie, we leave. Three, you stop me from jinxing you, I can't get through to wake up Charlie, I scream bloody murder to wake him anyway. So, what'll it be?" Anthony looked thoroughly horrified, but before he had a chance to work up the courage to respond, a boy in the back called out, "He's waking up now!" Charlie groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Whassamatter?" Then he opened his eyes fully and took in the tableau, me standing there terrorizing one of the biggest guys in the room, the other staring. He clapped a hand to his forehead. "Jay," he groaned, "what have you done?"

As we walked down the stairs, I heard a low whistle and then an eruption of noise from the room behind me. Smirking, I asked Charlie, "So let me get this straight, you're out of class for fifteen minutes and you already fell asleep?" "Look who's talking!" he protested. "You just reduced Mr. Muscle Man back there practically to tears, and yet you were afraid to go on an adventure the other day?" "Okay, first of all, we all know that Anthony's really a softie. Actually, our "adventure" is what I wanted to talk about, though. We just need to get Jules." I bounded across the common room to the staircase to Jules' and my dorm and sped up the stairs, pausing only to tell Charlie to hurry.

"I just woke up!" Charlie complained, slowly dragging himself up the stairs. He was about halfway up when I reached the top landing. Charlie never went any further than that. The stairs suddenly changed into a slick marble slide, and my friend barely had enough time to say, "Crap!" before he slid back down to the bottom. I doubled over with laughter, barely able to breathe. The look on Charlie's face had been priceless. "Guess… you're not allowed… up here," I gasped out. "I'll get Jules.

We met up in an empty classroom so that no one could hear our conversation. Charlie had gotten over his fall, although it had taken Jules several minutes to stop laughing after she heard about it. None of us were laughing now, not after going over what had happened the other night. "So what do we do, about the Graphorn, the package, everything?" "Well, it's obviously very important, the package I mean, or it wouldn't have been protected like it was. I can't believe they have that thing guarding it – Graphorns are vicious!" Jules piped up. Charlie frowned. "I wonder if the school put it there, or if they know about it at all." "I bet they have no idea," I said. "Macmillan would never let a Graphorn in here. I think we should tell someone." Jules made a face at that, but she didn't say anything, so I continued. "My Uncle Jake is the caretaker. He would be easy to talk to."

"Jake Trammen is your _uncle_?" Charlie exclaimed. "Wow, you know everybody, don't you?" I didn't respond. It was a compliment, I understood that, but it reminded me of the stares I got in the corridors. Having a famous name wasn't all it was cracked up to be. It brought not only stares but also expectations. But all that was beside the point. I couldn't afford to worry about it right now, not when Jules was launching into a don't-tell-Trammen-it's-a-bad-idea rant. "No offense, but how do we know we can trust him? And if this does turn out to be something the school is doing, we'll get in trouble. Especially me. I'm the one who picked the lock, remember? No way. I'm out. We're not telling him. End of discussion." Jules crossed her arms and stared into the distance, frowning. Then she turned back and noticed that Charlie and I were both staring at her, shocked. "What? I have a healthy distrust for authority, okay?" I caught Charlie's eye, but he just shrugged. "Fine," I grumbled. "But we have to do _something_."

In the end, Jules promised to ask her prefect brother, Terrence, if he knew or could find out anything, Charlie offered to look up Graphorns in the library, and I decided to look around the area where the double doors were to see if I could find any clues. It didn't sound that great in a list like that. We sounded like what we were. Amateurs. But it was the best we could come up with. If we couldn't figure anything out, we would just have to ignore Juliet's qualms and tell Uncle Jake. I was actually kind of glad that we had decided not to, though. I mean, it would have been easier, sure, but this made me feel so independent. I don't know, maybe there had been something in my pumpkin juice at dinner, maybe it was the surge of confidence that making a plan had given me, but when faced with the prospect of being out of bed at night, _I_ was the one who suggested that we take a risk. Me, Jay Dumbledore, resident I'm-not-so-sure-I'm-brave-enough-to-be-in-Gryffindor-but-let's-go-for-it-we'll-find-out-won't-we. There had definitely been something in my pumpkin juice.

I was sitting in the common room talking with my friends, about to go to bed, when I had a realization. "Crap! I never sent my family my letter!" "Not a big deal, just send it tomorrow," Jules said indifferently, not looking up from her book. "You don't understand, my parents will _freak_. They've been really on edge ever since they heard about the Mark, and I haven't sent a letter in a couple of days. Okay, I'm officially panicking. Come on guys, I know this doesn't sound important, but it is! Help me!" Charlie sat up slowly and yawned. "What do you need us to do?" The only problem with that question was that I didn't have an answer myself. Then I looked at Jules and raised my eyebrows. I looked at Charlie and did the same. And I heard myself say, "Maybe we should make an _excursion_ to the Owlery tonight."

Charlie wasn't exactly eager, but since he _had_ asked what I needed, he came with us. Jules, on the other hand, was so enthusiastic that it was a bit strange. I had to admit that I was looking forward to the adventure, despite the outcome of our last, but I was definitely also scared. Jules, for some reason, seemed to lack that barrier. Nonetheless, all three of us were cautious as we crept out at about half past eleven. It had taken pretending to do homework, getting a lecture on time management from a sixth year, and Jules nodding off and having to be prodded with Charlie's wand in order to wake up, but we were off.

As we slunkout of the portrait hole one by one, the Fat Lady scolded us, asking where we were going, but I kept walking and leading our group down the hallway until her complaints faded into the distance. No matter how far we walked through the shadows and patches of moonlight, however, I couldn't escape Jules' complaining. One moment she was berating Charlie for bringing a flashlight and turning it on, asking if he was actually hoping to get us all caught, the next she was getting on my case for walking, breathing too loudly. Somehow her low whispers carried an intimidating tone of command, and finally I offered to let her lead. After that we advanced much more quickly and quietly, Jules leading us like a master spy and ducking into a doorway or side passage to hide at every stray noise. Not for the first time, I wondered what Jules' old life had been like. For some reason I didn't think the answer would be forthcoming soon, but I understood that. We'd only met a few weeks ago, and I wasn't expecting her to pour out her life story immediately. Still, it was a little unsettling, seeing her inch stealthily towards the Owlery as if she did this every day.

When we finally did reach the Owlery, I collapsed on the floor nervously as Charlie heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Conversely, Jules was practically glowing. She skipped around the owl perches, emptier at this time of night, looking for Istanbul. "Here, Istanbul! Here, boy!" she cooed softly. My little owl flew over and perched on her shoulder, giving her an affectionate peck. "Oh, come on," I complained. "That's not fair, Istanbul, that's owl favoritism." If I didn't know better, I would have said Istanbul was smirking. Slowly getting to my feet, I gave him my letter and sent him off. The tiny guy could barely hold the letter. He flew in a ridiculous zigzag pattern because of its weight, and I smiled and promised myself I would get my hands on some Owl Treats for him. But while Istanbul was stubbornly getting the job done, Charlie was groaning something along the lines of, "Oh dear God we have to go back now, can't we just sleep up here?"

"Aww, is Moaning Myrtle scared? Get a move on Charlie, we don't have all night." Jules left the room, and Charlie and I reluctantly followed. We were wearily walking down yet another corridor, only two hallways and a flight of stairs away from our soft beds, when the sound of whistling reached my ears. I involuntarily flinched, and Jules stopped dead in her tracks. Then all three of us rushed for the nearest doorway and hid. It was Professor Longbottom, heading for his office. Unfortunately for us, that office was right in the middle of the corridor we had been heading down. Crap.

We all drew back further into the shadows of our small nook as he passed and entered his office, still whistling a tune that sounded suspiciously like a Celestina Warbeck song. "What are we going to do?" Charlie whispered. The two of us both looked at Jules intently. We knew that for some reason she was the expert here. Jules thought for only a moment before telling us the plan. Charlie and I were to go around the corner, away from the professor's office, and reach the Gryffindor common room by a tapestry on the wall that concealed a longer, but safer, route. "What about you?" I asked. Jules bit her lip. "I'm the bait." She quickly reached out and kicked a small table nearby before we had time to object. The whistling abruptly stopped, and Longbottom called out calmly, "Who's there? Come out! And Peeves, if you've broken another priceless old cauldron I'll set the Baron on you."

Jules moved to show herself, and I grabbed her sleeve. "No! You can't do this!" I whispered furiously. "It's me, or all of us! Without a distraction, you'll never get away!" She ripped her arm out of my grasp and Charlie tried to catch hold of her again, but his hands caught only air. Jules had already marched out into the middle of the corridor with her "stoic hero" face on. "It's Juliet Tenega, professor. I'm sorry."

I could hear Longbottom lecturing Jules as Charlie and I hurried away, and my heart ached. I didn't want to leave her, but it would do no good to get myself caught too. It seemed that Charlie was facing the same anxious turmoil, because the walk back was silent and our parting to go to our own dormitories grim. I sat up in bed, hugging my legs to myself and imagining all sorts of terrible outcomes as the minutes ticked by. Finally, half an hour later, Jules returned. I rushed up and hugged her. She was actually fairly cheerful; Longbottom had only deducted 25 points, and she had detention, but it was with Hagrid and overall things could have been much worse. We stayed up and talked for a short while, and my last thought before I fell asleep was that Jules had sacrificed herself to save us, and all because I couldn't wait until morning.

If anything, the three of us became an even closer-knit group. Not only had we faced death, and detention, together, but we had also proved ourselves, tested our friendship and found it to be strong. Well, at least the others had. I felt that all I had done so far was drag Jules and Charlie into trouble, despite their reassurances, and I found myself constantly trying to do them favors. I even started checking their homework for them! But I was definitely becoming more comfortable at Hogwarts. I got fewer stares in the hallway, learned which teachers too keep off the bad side of, and the day came when I found all of my classes without getting lost once. Finally, close to a month after I had started at Hogwarts, everything was good.

On the evening of Jules' detention, neither Charlie nor I was particularly worried. Although she would be going into the Forbidden Forest, and although it looked like rain, she was just collecting plants and would be safe with Hagrid the whole time. It might even be fun. So we didn't look up from our work as it grew darker, simply lighting a few more lamps. We didn't anxiously stare out at the forest, wondering how Juliet was doing. If we had, maybe we would have been the ones who first noticed the cloud that was clearly shaped like a dagger and a wand crossed in front of a skull. Charlie and I, the whole school really, began to panic yet again at that. The mysterious sign was obviously some sort of threat. But I didn't connect what people were starting to call "The Other Mark" with danger to Jules until, as practically the whole house waited for news, she was escorted inside the common room, eyes rimmed with red and face wet, by none other than Professor Farran. Jules immediately dropped into a seat, and as she held her head in her hands, Farran bluntly made an announcement. "Students are to remain in the Gryffindor tower. A corpse has been found in the forest. A goblin's body. Please remain calm. Faculty members such as myself will be coming in to check on you at regular intervals." Just like that, she left. And, suddenly, I understood. Jules was the one that discovered the body. And by casting the Dark Mark and doing nothing, then killing under this new Mark, whoever did this was sending a very clear message.

There was a new Dark wizard in town. And he wasn't Lord Voldemort.

In the stunned silence that followed, I heard Jules quietly call out. "Dobluk…"


End file.
